Ten feet away, a man squats on his haunches & fumbles through his zippered jeans. Seconds later, a pressured stream begins to creep my way. Drawing my knees up, curling in on myself, I shuddered. Resigned, I thought, "This train's never coming."
An empty station. by Bianca Doe
(This story was submitted for the '42 word challenge' challenge on 03:22AM on Sunday 10 May and has not been moderated yet. It has been viewed one hundred and seventy-one times.)
Comments
If you were logged in you could comment on or rate this story.